


Sleeping In

by Ssspriteee



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale (Good Omens) - Freeform, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) - Freeform, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Multi, Waking Up, married Aziraphale and Crowley, soft, soft morning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22878019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ssspriteee/pseuds/Ssspriteee
Summary: The sun is rising and Crowley and Aziraphale have wildly different ideas as to how they should spend the day. Morning married husbands, literally just a soft domestic fluff piece.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	Sleeping In

The sunlight filtered in from the window and the two intertwined in the bed softly rose, moved, fluttered. They were always intertwined in the bed, it was impossible not to be the way Crowley wrapped their legs and arms all over Aziraphale, who in turn couldn’t keep his hands off the demon. 

Crowley made a noise, their “god it’s too damn early and too damn bright to be anything useful” noise and immediately pressed their forehead and nose into the crook of their angel’s neck, breath hot against a clavicle, prickly stubble just below it. Aziraphale in turn opened his eyes slightly with a soft curve of his lips — everything about him was soft — and made a humming sound. This was his “aw was the sunlight too harsh, you infernal adversary?” humming sound, complete with running his perfectly plump fingers down Crowley’s exposed spine. 

The snake shivered from the pleasant sensation, deciding to tuck away their pronouns and gender before reapplying new ones to himself. Gender was like that for him, malleable. For Aziraphale too, though the Angel rarely cared what his gender was, it was merely a courtesy to others who needed him to have one and as long as it didn’t interfere with him getting food or collecting tomes, that’s all that mattered. 

Aziraphale knew exactly what would happen next, completely free of divine influence. He knew the moment he had to get up for work, Crowley would protest and they’d have a gentle argument about their competing needs. He smiled despite himself just thinking about it, holding his snake, knowing what would happen when he reached over to stop an alarm before it started-

“Not bloody likely,” Crowley snarled with no malice. Aziraphale had rolled which meant Crowley had been rolled, still curled around his angel but now almost on top of him, still wrapped and tucked into his neck. Again, he reiterated, “Too damn early. You’re not leaving me yet.”

This is where Aziraphale was always the most tempted to stay the hour, the day, the week with Crowley in their bed. The sun gently warmed their already warm bodies (well, Aziraphale was warm, Crowley on the other hand-) and it didn’t hurt that the snake was now pressing slow, sleep entranced kisses all up Aziraphale’s neck. The angel closed his eyes and hummed, pressing a single kiss against Crowley’s ear.

“You know I must get up, dear,” he mused, playing absently with the ginger’s hair, especially the thick part at the very nape. “I’ve got work, the bookstore-“

“Will still be here when yer ready,” the accent always got thicker the closer to sleep Crowley edged. “Nobody’s waitin’ in line downstairs for a rare book at bloody 6 A.M. If they are, I’ll kill ‘em m’self. Far too suspicious, must be the antichrist.”

Aziraphale feigned alarm at his comments which he knew Crowley could feel because he felt the crooked line of a smirk in the latest bribing kiss. “Distasteful, you know we have afternoon plans with our godson, we’ve got no more room for other antichrists in our life, I’m afraid.”

“ _ After  _ noon. That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, love. Nothing to get ready for ‘til after the noon. Sleep in.”

The angel sighed. Crowley had a point, it was a Sunday, not exactly customers galore on those days; church was still a thing others attended. He hated when Crowley was right, but in a way someone would hate that they wouldn’t have to go into work that day. “Fine. But you simply  _ can’t  _ get smug about this.”

This was always how it went, and Crowley being smug was just part of the territory. 

Crowley’s lips revealed his teeth in a winning smile before they softened and he nosed up Aziraphale’s neck to press gentle kisses to his jaw, “Fat chance, angel.”

His angel closed his eyes and gave a soft, closed mouth smile, the one Crowley melted at. He was alright with the smugness if it came with perks like this. 

So they laid, ineffable husbands on a soft Sunday morning, skin to skin and heart to heart. And absolutely nobody needed anything from A.Z. Fell & Co. all day. 


End file.
